Floraline
by SyberiaWinx
Summary: A curious little tale, about a curious little girl, who stumbled upon a curious little world that was everything she'd ever dreamed of...or was it?  Be careful what you wish for.
1. Alone

**Floraline**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Professor Layton. If I did, Descole would have his own spin-off.

**Author's Note:** Well, the movie Coraline is playing on TV right now, and I'm currently really into Professor Layton and pining for Mask of Miracle. I've seen the movie before, but just it being on is making me combine the two mentally. I thought of Flora for the title role because she is a character that doesn't get much attention or stories, and she is always left behind. It's easy to see her as frustrated as Coraline is with her life. This really made me want to write this story, along with the idea I had for the "Other Mother". I hope you all enjoy it. And FYI-My computer went crazy and deleted ALL of my Word files. Thankfully, I had most of them backed up, but I lost what I had of this one completely. So, I'm rewriting it all over again. Please review! And feel free to let me know if you want to IM and talk about Professor Layton! I'm also currently looking for someone to co-write a fanfic or two with me.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**Alone**

_Once upon a time, in a curious little village, there lived an equally-curious little girl named Flora._

_Poor Flora had lost her parents when she was just a child, and at the request of her father, she had isolated herself in a tall tower that loomed over the rest of the village. Her father had set up an elaborate system of puzzles and riddles that needed to be solved before one could gain entry to the tower. This was to protect Flora and make sure only someone with intelligence and determination could reach her. There would be one last test after that, involving a birthmark of Flora's, which would only appear when she laughed. For only a person who could make Flora laugh would be worthy of becoming her new guardian, which was the point to everything._

_With the promise that she would one day be found and loved, Flora had stayed within the tower, all alone. The years passed, and she grew from a precocious little girl to a very sweet, naive young woman. Even though she had faith in her father, she had started to fear that no one would ever come for her._

_And then, _he_ came…_

_Professor Hershel Layton, archeology teacher, lover of puzzles, and true English gentleman. With his keen intellect, he had managed to reach the tower with his eager young apprentice, Luke. He was a kind man, and he had saved Flora many times before the day was over. For the first time in years, she had laughed, all because of him. She had been all too happy to leave her little village behind and go with him._

_From that point on, Flora had been certain her life would be one of warmth, family, and adventure._

_But life has a funny way of turning out differently than you could ever imagine…_

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Professor!"<p>

It had been less than a year since that fateful day when the good professor had found Flora and agreed to become her new guardian. They lived together in a simple, comfy house, and while it was not as luxurious as what she was used to, she was fond of her new home. And seeing the kind smile of the professor everyday only made it that much better.

Well, _almost_ everyday…

"Good morning, Flora." Professor Layton said, smiling in that way that warmed her heart and made her want to smile even more than she already was.

"I made you breakfast!" The professor had done so much for her, Flora had taken up doing all the cooking as a way to thank him. Unfortunately, having lived a life of luxury before coming to stay with him, she had no experience, and unbeknownst to her, what she made was rarely edible.

Eyeing the…pancakes-he assumed that's what they were, though he'd never known pancakes to have eyes,-Layton did his best to hide the nausea creeping up from his stomach. After all, a gentleman did not insult a lady's…cooking.

"Aren't you going to eat them?" Flora asked, completely unaware of his discomfort.

"Uh, w-well…" It was all the professor could do not to let out a sigh of relief when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" he said, a little too eagerly. He left the room and returned a couple seconds later with Luke.

Though she had hoped to have some time alone with the professor, Flora politely hid her disappointment and smiled at him. "Hello, Luke."

"Hi, Flora!" the thirteen-year-old greeted, before suddenly wrinkling his nose in disgust. "What's that smell?"

"Hmm?" Flora looked puzzled, her eyes scanning the room. "I don't smell anything."

The professor cleared his throat quietly to get Luke's attention, then quickly glanced at the table. Luke took one look at the food placed there and paled, only to be nudged by the professor in time to prevent Flora from seeing this. He smiled nervously at her. "Ah, never mind! I'm sure I was just imagining things!"

"Oh?" Flora thought he was acting rather strange, but that wasn't really anything new.

Professor Layton cleared his throat again, quickly putting on his coat and scarf. "I'm sorry to dash off, Flora, but there is some important business Luke and I must attend to. Come along, Luke!" Without another word, the two dashed out of the house in a most ungentlemanly fashion, not even hearing Flora as she called out after them.

"Alone again…" Flora sighed wistfully, looking at the abandoned breakfast she had worked so hard to prepare. This was hardly the first time the professor had run off like this, leaving her to eat alone. She hated the silence of it, and she honestly wasn't all that hungry anymore.

With a sad look on her face, Flora slowly went about cleaning up. Though she tried her best not to dwell on it, her mind kept drifting back to the professor and Luke, wondering what they would be doing today. They usually had such grand adventures and were sometimes gone for days at a time. She didn't think this would be one of those times, but she couldn't be certain anymore. In the past, he would always tell her when he was going far away and might be gone a while. But after several instances of her following him and getting caught up in dangerous situations, he had stopped doing that.

For someone who was always such a gentleman, it never even seemed to cross his mind how much she hated always having to wonder whether or not he'd be coming home each night. She never knew where he was and had no way of getting in touch with him if there were an emergency. But that wasn't even the worst of it. The worst part…

…was that she was alone.

Having lost both of her parents so young and spent so many years living in isolation, the one thing Flora hated more than anything else was being alone. When the professor was gone, she felt like she was back in that lonely tower again, waiting an unknown time for someone to come for her. He was, essentially, all she had, having left everyone else she knew behind in that little village so far away.

It might have been better if Flora at least had some friends she could talk to or visit, but she did not. She went to school, but spending so long hidden away in a tiny village and living with more riches than most could imagine had made her what most of her classmates called "unusual". Despite her best efforts, she just couldn't seem to connect with any of them.

Currently, Luke was the only person she would consider a friend, yet she knew he cared more for the professor than her. He only came by to see the professor, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous when ever the two of them went out together for what would surely be an interesting day.

Flora always felt guilty for feeling something as petty as jealousy-especially since, in spite of all she lacked, she still did have a lot more than some people,-but she just couldn't help it sometimes. Like her, Luke had left behind the small village where he had grown up. But he still kept in touch with all his friends, and some of them had even come to visit recently. They had laughed and looked at old pictures, while she had just stood off to the side, awkwardly. His parents had been there too, and while she had tried to instead focus on them, she ended up feeling worse than ever after seeing how nice they were.

She could barely even remember her parents, but she wanted to believe they had been nice, loving people. It wasn't fair. Luke still had both of his parents… Why did he need to have the professor, too?

Even though such thoughts were surely justified, they made Flora feel bad. She was being selfish, wasn't she? The professor was not hers. He'd had a whole life of his own before she'd been thrust into it, and while he had happily taken her in, maybe he had hoped she would have chosen to stay in the village where she had been raised. After all, who would think that a young girl would choose to abandon all she had ever known to become the ward of a complete stranger?

As she wondered if it was possible the professor really didn't want her around, Flora did the dishes. Distracted by her disheartening thoughts, she was barely aware of the water scalding her hands or the too-strong fruity scent of the soap… The only thing she noticed, was just how _quiet _the house was.

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><p>Feeling more restless than usual, Flora found herself doing something she hadn't done in ages-stayed up well past her usual bedtime to wait for the professor to get home. Since she usually had school in the morning, and since there were many times he did not come home until past midnight or simply did not come home at all, she had given up on what had previously been a daily ritual for her. But tonight, she desperately needed his company. To see his face and hear his voice…<p>

Flora curled up on a sofa in the den with one of her favorite books, _Alice in Wonderland_. She loved the idea of a young girl leaving behind her boring life and having her own little adventure in a bizarre, but intriguing world. Pretty soon she was imagining that _she_ was that girl in the story, seeing the most unusual things and meeting the most extraordinary people, just like in the tales the professor and Luke would always tell her when they got back from one of _their_ many adventures.

The teen got so caught up in her make-believe adventure, that she didn't even hear the front door closing or notice the professor coming into the den. She didn't even hear him the first time he said her name. It wasn't until he shook her shoulder gently that she snapped out of her trance and looked up at him in surprise.

"Professor!" she shouted with glee, jumping up and hugging him. The book combined with his return had done wonders to lift her spirits.

The professor chuckled as the force of her hug sent him stumbling backwards, nearly knocking him over. "What are you doing up so late, my dear? Were you waiting up for me?" There was a look of concern on his face. A gentleman must never keep a lady waiting, after all.

"O-oh, no, of course not!" Flora didn't want him to be upset, and she didn't want to seem clingy. She smiled, her cheeks red. "Did you and Luke have fun today?"

"We tackled a most intriguing mystery." he told her as she followed him out into the hall. He took off his coat and scarf and hung them up. "I'm sure Luke can't wait to tell you all about it." He didn't ask her how her day was or what she did, and this made her feel sad.

"Can't _you_ tell me, Professor?" Flora usually didn't like hearing about his and Luke's adventures, since it just reminded her what she was missing out on. But right now, she just wanted him to spend time with her. She would have even asked him to tell her about his archeology work-which she found incredibly boring,-if it meant he'd spend more than five minutes in the same room with her.

The professor smiled again, touching the brim of his top hat. "Now, now, Flora, a true gentleman does not deprive his young apprentice of a chance to impress a young lady."

Flora was pretty sure he'd just made that one up.

Professor Layton took her book from her and closed it, placing it back on the shelf. "I think it is time for both of us to get to bed, my dear."

Flora's heart sank. "Yes, Professor."

He smiled, not noticing her unhappiness. "Goodnight, Flora."

"Goodnight."

The professor left the room, and Flora fell back onto the sofa, her head hanging. It was always _Luke_ who recounted their adventures. Her guardian might laugh or make a comment or two, but that was it. He himself would never tell her about what they did, even when she begged. And aside from "goodnights" and "good mornings" and "hellos" and the dreaded "goodbyes", he rarely exchanged words with her at all. He never spoke with her the way he did with Luke.

Flora could feel the tears brimming in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry. It made her feel more weak and pathetic than she already did, which was something she just couldn't stand.

Especially since there was no one there to comfort you when you cried alone.

And even with the professor just upstairs, Flora knew that was still…

…so very much alone.


	2. Discovery

**Floraline**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Professor Layton. If I did, Descole would have his own spin-off.

**Author's Note:** Well, the movie Coraline is playing on TV right now, and I'm currently really into Professor Layton and pining for Mask of Miracle. I've seen the movie before, but just it being on is making me combine the two mentally. I thought of Flora for the title role because she is a character that doesn't get much attention or stories, and she is always left behind. It's easy to see her as frustrated as Coraline is with her life. This really made me want to write this story, along with the idea I had for the "Other Mother". I hope you all enjoy it. And FYI-My computer went crazy and deleted ALL of my Word files. Thankfully, I had most of them backed up, but I lost what I had of this one completely. So, I'm rewriting it all over again. Please review! And feel free to let me know if you want to IM and talk about Professor Layton! I'm also currently looking for someone to co-write a fanfic or two with me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

**Discovery**

Flora coughed as the heavy box she unceremoniously set down stirred up a cloud of dust. In an effort to stop wallowing in her own despair, the teen had once again thrown herself into housework. Since the professor had been less than thrilled to come home and find the whole house rearranged the last time, she had decided to just move some stuff around up in the attic and do some cleaning. She wouldn't throw anything away, and no one ever went up there, so it should be fine. It was just a way to distract herself, after all.

"I can't believe the professor let this place get so dusty." she thought out loud, wrinkling her nose. "Well, I suppose it makes sense. It's not like he has a lot of free time. Right, Miss Scarlet?" Flora looked to the old porcelain doll sitting nearby. When she was a child, she had developed a habit of speaking to her toys. From what she understood, most kids did this, though she doubted most continued it into their teens.

Aside from the cracked doll with its blonde curls and torn frilly red dress and bonnet, there was an old stuffed bear with a missing eye and a blue bow around its neck and an old jack-in-the-box with faded colors that no longer opened anymore. The doll was "Miss Scarlet", obviously. She had named the bear "Benjamin", and quite predictably, the jack-in-the-box "Jack".

These treasured, worn-down toys from Flora's childhood were the closest things she had to friends. When she was alone in the house, which was often, she would sometimes set them out nearby and talk to them as if they were real people. It wasn't much, but it was just another little thing that made her feel a little less lonely.

Professor Layton had gone out with Luke again this morning, only this time he'd been gone before she'd even had a chance to make him a breakfast he'd neglect to eat. She had awoken to find the house empty, with only a hastily-written note telling her that he had gone out. At least this time he wrote that he'd be gone until very late in the evening, so she should not wait up.

But somehow, that wasn't much of a comfort.

Sighing, Flora turned around and surveyed the attic she'd spent all morning attempting to tidy. It was a small room with a low, dark ceiling, but if one were to take out all the boxes and make a real effort, it could be quite a cozy space. The wooden boards that made up the floor looked old and creaked a lot, but they felt surprisingly strong. A nice carpet would do wonders. And to the left, there was the pull-down ladder Flora had used to get up there in the first place. The only source of light in the room was a single window, directly in front of where Flora stood.

But what fascinated the teen, was the wallpaper. That might sound silly, but she found it absolutely charming. It only covered the walls behind and in front of her, and it was faded and peeling in some places, but that didn't affect her in the slightest. She loved the now-dull pink color and the unusual red flowers printed all over it in neat rows. Each one was as big as her hand, and as she stared at the back wall to get a full view of the rather intriguing wallpaper, she couldn't resist running her fingertips over it.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, jerking Flora from the almost trance-like state she had been in. She instinctively called out "I'm coming!", even though there was certainly no way whoever it was could possibly hear her.

Flora rushed downstairs as quickly as she could, hoping the visitor did not leave before she got there. It was rare for anyone other than Luke to come to the house, as most of the professor's acquaintances were students and teachers who simply talked to him at the university where he worked. Even strangers tended to look for him there, rather than come to his house. And with how sick she was of being left home alone, the idea of company-even if it wasn't for her-was exciting.

The doorbell rang again, just as Flora reached the entryway. Completely forgetting what the professor had always taught her about checking to see who it was first, she immediately opened the door.

Her spirits fell instantly, though she did her best to hide it.

Standing on the doorstep was a young woman Flora had only met a few times before, though she had known from the first that she did not like her. She knew that a part of it was jealousy, though unlike with Luke, she felt no guilt in feeling it towards this person. That was because the other reason was that there was something about her that just wasn't…right, though Flora could still not quite put her finger on it. But if she could, she would probably have to wash it. Actually, she should probably wash it anyway, she realized, as she had gotten dust all over her hand from when she had been having a moment with the wallpaper earlier. Before this _woman_ had interrupted…

"Hello, Flora." the woman said with a smile. It was a perfectly friendly one-nothing odd or twisted about it. And yet…

The teen's own smile felt strained as she returned the greeting. "Hello, Emmy."

Yes, it was Emmy Altava-Professor Layton's old assistant. She had started working for him suddenly three years ago, and she had stopped working for him just as suddenly, shortly before the events that had led to Flora coming to live with the professor. Flora didn't know what had happened or what the woman was up to now, but she didn't care for these visits, rare as they were.

"Is the professor here?" Emmy asked. If she noticed the younger girl's discomfort, she didn't show it. Perhaps she was simply confident enough not to care.

"No, I'm afraid he's out with Luke at the moment, and he won't be back until much later." For the first time, Flora was actually happy that this was the case.

"I see. That's a shame." An awkward silence passed between them. "So…Has your cooking gotten any better, Flora?"

The teen could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. "There is nothing wrong with my cooking!" she said angrily.

"No need to be so defensive!" Emmy said with a laugh, putting her hands up in mock-surrender. "We all have things we need to improve on. If you make a real effort, I bet someday you can even be as amazing as me." she said with a wink.

Flora just glared at her, resisting the urge to say some very unladylike things that the professor would surely not approve of.

The older woman's smile did not falter in the slightest, and with a cheery goodbye, she practically skipped down the steps. She put on her helmet and got on her yellow moped, speeding off down the street. Flora was all too happy to see her go.

Going back inside, Flora winced at the sound the door made as it slammed behind her. She hadn't meant to shut it that hard-a lady did not slam doors, after all,-but that woman just made her so angry! Letting out an indignant noise, she stomped all the way back up to the attic. She knew she was being childish, but it was better to get it out of her system when the professor was not around to scold her.

Once she was back in the attic, Flora threw herself back into her work. But it was doing little to curb her anger and embarrassment. How _dare_ that woman insult her cooking? She knew her culinary skills were far from perfect, but Emmy had acted like she couldn't even make a decent meal!

As she thought this, Flora couldn't help recalling all the times the professor and Luke had run out on the food she made for them. Or the times when one of them would distract her, and she'd turn back to find they'd finished it all a little _too_ quickly. And she could never forget the times Emmy came over the house and volunteered to make something. Even though she was the guest, the professor and Luke were always a little too eager to accept her offer. They always eagerly ate the food she made and openly praised her, making Flora fume with jealousy.

Even if you disregarded the cooking, it was easy to understand why someone like Flora would be jealous of someone like Emmy. While Flora was a naïve girl who had barely just entered her teens, Emmy was already a young woman and had experienced much more of the world. She had gone on adventures with the professor-like Flora herself so often longed to,-and he had said many times how much help she had been to him. She was even an accomplished martial artist. The few times Flora had managed to sneak after the professor, she'd been nothing but a burden and usually ended up getting kidnapped. The professor would then have to put himself in danger just to save her, something that she was sure would never happen to Emmy. And though it wasn't the kind of thing that usually mattered to her, it didn't help that Emmy was so much _taller_ than she was and had a much more curvaceous build. Even a few more years would not change her own petite form that much, and it just made her feel even more insignificant in comparison.

Flora let out a frustrated cry, kicking the back wall. The noise this produced was odd, but she didn't really notice. A piece of the wallpaper had torn away from the impact, and she immediately felt ashamed. What would the professor say if he were here right now?

_But he_ isn't _here…_ she thought, sadly.

Flora knelt down and touched the exposed area of the wall. Maybe she could fix it. A bit of glue…

The girl's train of thought stopped as she noted that there was something strange about this part of the wall. The rest of the wall felt firm and flat under her hands, but this part near where the paper had torn off felt weaker and rougher, like there was something hidden there.

Feeling around some more, Flora was able to deduce that the strange area was limited to a small section of the wall at the center of the bottom. It made up a square that was nearly two feet tall and wide. The wallpaper was definitely covering something up!

Eyes glittering with curiosity, Flora ignored how improper it was for a lady to destroy something in another person's home and started trying to peel the wallpaper off with her bare hands, starting at the section that was already torn. When this didn't work, she had briefly considered kicking the wall some more, but realized getting some kind of tool would probably be better.

Flora ran downstairs. She wasn't a very handy girl when it came to building or fixing stuff, so she really knew nothing about tools or where to find them. She settled for searching every cabinet and drawer she came across, until she found something that looked useful. Then she rushed back upstairs, her heart racing with the excitement of having a mystery all her own. What was hidden behind the pretty pink wallpaper with the red flowers?

Not caring if her dress got dirty, Flora knelt in front of the wall and started beating at it with the rolling pin she had brought from downstairs. The repeated impact made the paper tear away some more, but not enough for her to see what it was covering up. She briefly considered going and getting another tool, but ultimately decided against it.

If the professor were in her situation, he would make it work. Even though he was not there, she felt as if she had something to prove, for all those times he'd left her behind.

Swallowing her reservations at going through the professor's things, Flora opened up a nearby box. She could feel her toy friends watching her disapprovingly, but she didn't acknowledge them. Hopefully no one would ever find out that she had done something so unladylike as to rifle through another's belongings.

Thankfully, the first box yielded an old knife, which was stored in a fancy case along with a bunch of other silverware. It was elegant-looking, shiny, and surprisingly-sharp. Taking care not to cut herself, she took off her hair ribbon and used it to tie the utensil to the rolling pin, creating a bizarre cutting implement.

Flora turned her creation on the wall, almost letting out a squeal of glee as the knife cut through the paper easily. She gripped the rolling pin with both hands and carefully moved it downwards, smiling as the blade continued to slice the wallpaper. Were it not for the excitement it was getting harder and harder to contain, she would have felt horribly guilty. She'd certainly be in trouble if the professor ever discovered what she had done-that's what she wanted to believe, as it would mean he noticed and cared enough to punish her for it. Hopefully, whatever she found would be worth it.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Flora cast the makeshift cutting device aside and starts tearing at the wallpaper with her bare hands. She felt just like a kid unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.

Peeling away the last of the paper, Flora discovered a small door. It was brown and in much better shape than the rest of the attic. Etched in black upon it, was a circle with a top hat inside. It made her think of the professor.

Whatever lay beyond that door, it clearly belonged to the professor. And he must have covered it up for a reason. It would be wise to wait until he got home and ask about it.

But even as she thought that, Flora felt her hand moving as if it had a mind of its own. She didn't want to risk the professor covering it back up or not letting her see what was inside. Even if it was something awful or dangerous, she was sick of always being told as much as an excuse to keep her in the dark.

Flora's fingers curled around the doorknob, finding it surprisingly cool to the touch. Her heart was pounding in her chest, like it might burst free any moment. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned the doorknob…and pulled.


	3. Key

**Floraline**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Professor Layton. If I did, Descole would have his own spin-off.

**Author's Note:** Well, the movie Coraline is playing on TV right now, and I'm currently really into Professor Layton and pining for Mask of Miracle. I've seen the movie before, but just it being on is making me combine the two mentally. I thought of Flora for the title role because she is a character that doesn't get much attention or stories, and she is always left behind. It's easy to see her as frustrated as Coraline is with her life. This really made me want to write this story, along with the idea I had for the "Other Mother". I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! And feel free to let me know if you want to IM and talk about Professor Layton! I'm also currently looking for someone to co-write a fanfic or two with me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

**Key**

It was locked.

Flora tugged on the doorknob with both hands, even going so far as to press both of her feet against the wall for leverage. The door moved a little, but no matter how hard she pulled, it just wouldn't open.

Letting out a frustrated cry, the teen finally gave up. Folding her arms with a huff, she tried to think of a way to get around this latest obstacle.

Picking the lock was not an option. Flora had tried doing that kind of thing before. After being kidnapped and locked up so many times, she had attempted to learn the skill. All she'd ended up with was a bunch of blisters and the professor asking her why there were hairpins sticking out of every keyhole in the house.

Breaking the door open was also not an option. Even if it was unlikely he would ever find out, Flora couldn't bring herself to damage the professor's property more than she already had by discovering the hidden door in the first place.

Thus, there was only one solution Flora could think of-finding the key. But this was easier said than done. It was not clear how long the door had been covered up, and the key could have easily gotten lost in this time. Given the symbol on it, it seemed clear the door was connected to the professor, so he must have had the key at at least one point, and she could she couldn't imagine him misplacing it. However, given that such lengths had been gone to simply to hide the door's very existence, she couldn't imagine he would simply give it to her if she asked. In fact, telling him might cause him to cover the door back up and even restrict her from going up into the attic at all. Not to mention that he might get a bit mad, especially considering the damage she had done to the wallpaper. She had never seen Professor Layton get mad, and she was certain she never wanted to.

Though Flora did her best to try and think of where the key might be hidden, after a few minutes, she felt her stomach growling and resigned herself to taking a break. She went downstairs and headed for the kitchen.

While she would have rather just fixed up a quick snack so she could get back to her quest, Flora decided to take the time to prepare something more filling. She had skipped breakfast, and she was actually quite hungry. Besides, the bigger the meal she ate, the longer it would take for her to get hungry again, and the longer she would have to try and find that key!

Within minutes, Flora had soup going on the stove and was in the middle of making herself a sandwich to go along with it. She hummed to herself as she spread peanut butter and jam on one half of the bread. After a quick trip to the refrigerator, she set about making a smiley-face on the other, with pickles for the eyes, a pepperoni for the nose, and some ketchup for the smile. She carefully put the two halves together and stepped back to survey her creation, a pleased smile on her face.

And Emmy said she was a bad cook! She chuckled triumphantly. Let her take one bite of this awesome sandwich and say that!

Flora could feel her mouth starting to water, but she quickly reminded herself that that wasn't ladylike. Besides, she still needed to finish the soup. Glancing at the timer next to the stove, she saw that it was time to add in some seasoning. This was her favorite part-adding stuff to give it a unique flavor.

"Let's see…" The teen opened up the cupboards. There were lots of interesting spices, but most had weird names or smelled funny. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, shutting the last cupboard.

Heading back to the refrigerator, Flora grabbed a few things that looked yummy and placed them on the counter. She was in the middle of deciding just what to add, when there was a knock on the back door. The curtains were open, so she could see who it was from where she was standing. Her smile got even wider.

"Clive!" Flora could feel her heart swell. "P-please, come in!" she said eagerly, fumbling with the doorknob for a moment before finally managing to turn it and open the door for him.

Giving the flustered girl a quizzical look, Clive stepped into the kitchen. He was quite a few years older than her-too old to be considered a teenager, at least,-and he bore a rather striking resemblance to Luke, which was a bit weird. And then there was the fact that he had only recently been released from the asylum, after having used that similarity to trick everyone into thinking he was a future version of Luke. Well, that and attempting to destroy all of London in a twisted revenge plot that had left many people dead and many homes and families destroyed.

And it was because of his dastardly plan that the professor and Luke had been forced to run out on her and the delicious cucumber sandwiches she had prepared for them. It had taken several months of Clive being a test subject for various food experiments of hers, but she had finally managed to forgive him. And after he fully recovered from the food poisoning, they had grown quite close. She'd even found herself developing a bit of a crush on him.

"So, Clive…" It was all she could do not to giggle like a nervous schoolgirl. "What brings you here today?"

Clive's smile was a little awkward, mostly because he'd noticed hers was about a foot longer than it should be. "I was hoping to get the professor's help with something." He looked around. "But I'm guessing he's not here?"

Flora's smile fell before she could stop it, and she shook her head. "No. He's out with Luke again."

"Flora…" Hearing the pity in Clive's voice, she forced her smile back onto her face. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel sorry for her.

"Is there anything _I_ could do to help you, Clive?"

The older man thought for a moment. "This isn't really the kind of thing _you_ would know about…" He stopped when he saw how hurt she looked. His mind scrambled to some up with something to wipe that look off her face. "Th-the professor said he had some notes for me!" he blurted out suddenly. "Maybe he left them on his desk?"

Flora smiled brightly and nodded. "I'll go and look!" She thrust the ingredients she had chosen for her soup into his hands. "Can you add these? I'll be right back!" With that, she turned and rushed from the room.

"Uh…" Clive looked at the items she had given him-a tube of cookie dough and a bottle of lemonade. With a disturbed and stunned expression, he glanced over at the soup and then at the door the young girl had gone through. Surely she wasn't…serious?

While poor Clive grappled with doing as the young lady had asked and his own common sense, a very excited Flora burst into Professor Layton's study. It was a room she rarely entered, and honestly, one the professor rarely used. He did most of his work in his office at the university, after all.

_Could the professor really have left something for Clive in here?_

Flora walked over to his desk. It was unnaturally-tidy, especially compared to the professor's desk at Gressenheller. She giggled as she remembered the horror stories the cleaning lady often told her about the mess he left his office there.

It was pretty clear whatever notes the professor had gotten for Clive were not on his desk. But as Flora started back towards the door, she stopped, finding herself thinking of her mysterious little door in the attic. She probably had a few minutes before Clive would expect her back. Maybe she should look around a bit and see if she could find the…notes.

As quickly, but carefully, as she could, Flora scoured the study. She looked in all the drawers and cabinets, but only found papers she couldn't make sense of and unusual objects she guessed were related to the professor's interest in archeology. There was nothing that even remotely resembled a key.

With an exhausted and frustrated sigh, Flora collapsed into the desk chair. She would rest for a few moments, then go back downstairs. She'd ended up searching for a little longer than she had planned, and Clive had to be wondering what had happened to her.

_I hope he's not mad at me…_

When Flora did get up, her eye caught a charming little landscape painting on the wall beside the desk. Her mind flashed back to all those television programs she'd seen since coming to live with the professor in London. The people in those were always hiding their treasures in safes behind paintings! And come to think of it, even her own father had done something like that!

Flora leapt to her feet. Doing her best to contain her excitement, she carefully took the picture down. To her delight, there really was something in the wall behind it, though it did not look like a safe. It had a handle not unlike one might find on a normal door, and while the wood it was attached to looked strong, she was certain it was breakable enough.

Gently placing the painting on the desk, Flora's eyes remained fixated on the tiny door. It was unlikely the key was inside, and it was probably locked too. But as she reached out and grasped the handle, excitement coursed through her. Like with the door in the attic, she felt like she would surely discover something amazing…if she could only manage to get it to open.

Holding her breath, Flora moved the handle down and pulled. Her heart soared as the door opened, revealing an indentation in the wall that was filled with stuff. There was a photo of a familiar, smiling woman, and a red ribbon that looked like it had come off of a gift. Between them, resting on top of some papers, was small, thin box with a letter tied to the top.

Taking it out gingerly, she briefly considered reading the letter first. But her curiosity was too great, and she didn't want to invade the professor's privacy any more than she already had, especially without being sure what was inside the box. She carefully undid the twine and slipped it and the letter into the pocket of her apron absentmindedly, focused solely on the box.

Flora slowly removed the lid. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could swear her heart stopped.

There it was. Sitting inside, resting on white cotton lining, was an old-fashioned key. Engraved on the top, was the same fancy top hat symbol that marked the door in the attic. There was no doubt in her mind-this was the key she needed.

"Flora?"

Clive's voice startled her to the point of dropping both the key and the box. She stood there in shock for a moment, staring at his form in the doorway. From the confused expression on his face, she could just imagine how this must look. She had just been caught opening a strange box in the professor's study, with an obviously-secret compartment still open in the background.

Flora rambled as she tried to explain herself, grabbing the key and clutching it to her chest. She picked up the box almost as an afterthought, putting it back where she had found it, albeit empty. Shutting the compartment, she replaced the picture and turned to face Clive, doing her best to look innocent and not as terrified and nervous as she felt.

"I'm sorry, Clive, but I didn't find any notes." she said quickly, a little out of breath.

Clive barely seemed to hear her. Instead, his gaze was focused on the key she was trying so desperately to hide in her hands. "What's that?"

Flora hid it behind her back. "N-nothing!" _Way to be convincing, Flora. _she scolded herself mentally.

As she had expected, Clive was clearly unconvinced, and he looked a little troubled. She knew she would be in big trouble if he told the professor about this. It was doubtful he thought she was up to no good. At worst, he probably thought her curiosity had gotten the better of her. But since she had not returned the key, it was pretty clear she was essentially stealing from the professor, and even _she_ felt the urge to tell him as soon as she saw him.

But she couldn't lose the key now-not after miraculously finding it. And if the professor found out about her interest in it, there was little doubt he'd figure out that she'd uncovered the hidden door in the attic. It could only go downhill from there.

Wringing her hands around the key, Flora gave the young man before her a desperate, pleading look. "Please don't mention this to the professor!"

Clive frowned. "Flora, what's going on? It's not like you to go through the professor's things, let alone actually _take_ something."

"I'm not taking it!" she insisted. "I just need to borrow it for a few moments." That was technically true. She had no intention of keeping the key.

"Why?"

Flora scrambled to come up with a suitable answer. She couldn't tell him about the door in the attic. Even if she could convince him to keep it a secret from the professor, she wasn't ready to share it with anyone yet. But she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. It already felt like she was, and she hated it.

"I can't tell you-not right now." Clive opened his mouth-probably to ask her why or protest,-but she quickly continued. "But I will. Soon. I promise."

Still frowning, Clive closed his mouth. He was clearly not pleased with her answer, but it was all she could do not to sigh in relief when he seemed to accept it. Flora followed him back to the kitchen. A pungent aroma hung in the air, telling her the soup was done. Realizing just how hungry she was, she felt her spirits lift a little.

"Would you like to stay for lunch, Clive?" she asked him with a smile, only for it to almost immediately transform into a look of concern. "What's wrong?"

The young man looked frightfully pale, and his face wore an expression of sheer terror unlike anything she had ever seen before. His wide eyes were fixated on the pot bubbling on the stove, his nose crinkled in an odd way. He seemed to be putting forth a great effort not to throw up, and he did not answer her.

"Are you ill?"

Clive managed to smile at her. "I-I'm fine." he said weakly. "Sorry, Flora, but I've really got to be go-" He didn't finish, slapping a hand over his mouth and making a mad dash for the door.

Flora watched him disappear through it, worry evident on her face. "I hope he's okay. He got sick so suddenly…" She got out a bowl and poured some of thick purple soup into it and the rest into a container.

Now that she had the key, Flora was almost too excited to eat. She finished the soup, but ending up wrapping the sandwich and putting it and the leftover soup in the refrigerator for later. They were in plain sight, just in case the professor and Luke should come home early and decide they wanted some.

Flora cleaned the kitchen in record time, then raced back up to the attic. She took off her apron and let it fall to her feet, for once not caring how unladylike such a thing was. Her eyes were fixated on the door. Finally, it was time to see what was on the other side.

The key gripped in her hand felt hot as she knelt down and slowly inserted it into the hole beneath the doorknob. Her heart was beating so fast, she could hardly breathe. She was almost afraid, for fear it wouldn't work.

Swallowing nervously, Flora turned the key. Her eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and joy as she felt the lock yield with a loud _click_. She smiled triumphantly.

Not wanting to waste another second, the teen grabbed the doorknob and turned it. After a moment of hesitance, she pulled.

The door opened, much to Flora's delight. She felt pride and excitement well up inside her at having managed to do something like this all on her own. All she could see beyond the door was a dark tunnel, but for the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid at all. She was far too happy for that.

Since the attic had no light installed, Flora had brought up a long white candle, which she had placed in an old-fashioned candlestick holder she had found. She'd had no excuse to use it yet, as she always stopped working long before nightfall, mostly out of a fear of the professor coming home and finding her up there.

Lighting the candle, Flora took it over to the door. Even with its aid, she couldn't see the end of the tunnel. At least it looked far less creepy now, and she could see that there was more than enough room for a girl her size to crawl through.

But what awaited her on the other side? For the first time, Flora felt a small flicker of fear in her chest. She was alone, and if something happened to her, it would probably be hours before the professor came home. Even then, he might just assume her absence meant she had gone to bed. He'd also developed a habit of leaving before she got up some mornings. If she got stuck or hurt in some way, how long would it be before he realized something was amiss?

This thought hurt her more than frightened her, she realized. She was sick of just sitting home and feeling sorry for herself, while everyone else was off having adventures. And she was sick of being afraid. The professor was surely not so neglectful that he would not notice if she disappeared-she was just being silly.

With a resolve that took even her by surprise, Flora started down the tunnel. It was time for her to have her own adventure!


	4. Resemblance

**Floraline**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Professor Layton. If I did, Descole would have his own spin-off.

**Author's Note:** Well, the movie Coraline is playing on TV right now, and I'm currently really into Professor Layton and pining for Mask of Miracle. I've seen the movie before, but just it being on is making me combine the two mentally. I thought of Flora for the title role because she is a character that doesn't get much attention or stories, and she is always left behind. It's easy to see her as frustrated as Coraline is with her life. This really made me want to write this story, along with the idea I had for the "Other Mother". I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! And feel free to let me know if you want to IM and talk about Professor Layton! I'm also currently looking for someone to co-write a fanfic or two with me.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**Resemblance**

The tunnel seemed to go on for ages, and Flora was getting increasingly nervous. She was not as smart as the professor, but the length of this tunnel seemed unnatural. It had started in the attic of the house, and it just kept going straight forward-no twists or turns or anything like that.

Flora winced. She hadn't realized adventures could be so…_painful_. Crawling was hardly something a young lady such as herself was used to, though she was now starting to feel like she'd been doing it for ages. The length of the tunnel was only part of the problem. It was also rough and rocky, and she was crawling down it with the use of only one hand, while the other was out in front of her, holding the candle. She could see a lot of the tunnel thanks to the light, but there was still no sign of the end.

The teen was certain she would be sore tomorrow, not that she wasn't already pretty sore. Her hands and knees ached. How much time had passed since she started this trip?

There was no way to get an answer to that question right now, so she pressed on.

Finally, Flora could make something out some distance in front of her. Doing her best to ignore the pain she was in, she moved as fast as she could, until she found herself in front of another tiny door, marked the same as the first.

Though she had thought she'd be excited, worry prevented her from trying to open it. What was on the other side? Suppose it really was someplace dangerous? Or what if it led to another attic? It would be awful if she ended up in someone else's house, and if she got caught, the professor would learn about everything she had done.

For a brief moment, Flora considered turning back. But how could she, after coming this far? And honestly, her body wasn't ready to make that trek again. No, she couldn't let her fears stop her. She had to see where this tunnel led.

Swallowing nervously, Flora moved to open the door. After the last time, she was honestly expecting it to be locked, so she couldn't hide her surprise when it opened without any difficulty.

"Yes!" She smiled.

Before fear could take hold of her again, Flora opened the door all the way and crawled through. She immediately moved into a sitting position, eager to take the weight off of her sore knees before she did anything else. Rubbing at them, she looked around, her pained expression transforming into one of awe.

At first glance, one might look at the room she was in and say it was exactly the same as the one she had just come from. As far as Flora was concerned, they would be wrong.

True, the basic design of the room was the same as Layton's attic. It was about the same size, with the same lone window, a floor made of wood, and a wall covered with that paper she had loved so much. But while the attic she had come from was in desperate need of some work, this one was everything she'd imagined it could be and more.

The floor looked new, and it was sturdy. A circular, magenta-colored rug had been placed in the middle of it, and all it took was a touch to tell that it was as soft as it looked. That lovely wallpaper wasn't faded or damaged in any way, and it covered all the walls, not just one. The window that was so small and simple there, was large and arched here, with luxurious curtains that matched the rug. Were it daytime out, the room would surely be flooded with sunlight. Not that it needed it, as hanging from the ceiling was a beautiful, extravagant fixture that illuminated the attic perfectly.

There was still hardly any furniture in the room, but what there was looked like nicer versions of stuff from the professor's attic. The style was old-fashioned, like what she was used to from her home before going to live with Layton, and yet everything looked new. There were no boxes, and she doubted she would find a speck of dust or dirt anywhere.

Flora slowly stood, unable to stop gaping at her surroundings. She was pulled out of her trance suddenly, as part of the floor to her right collapsed with a loud noise, revealing a flight of stairs leading downward. It was almost as if some unseen force were beckoning her to go downstairs.

Before the teen could stop herself or even think about the fact that she was wandering around someone else's home-a _stranger's_ home-without permission, she was traversing the staircase.

It should have surprised her that the hall she entered was nearly identical to the one the attic stairs led down to in the professor's house. But somehow, it didn't. She didn't even think it strange, though it most certainly was. Just like the previous room, this one was much nicer than its twin.

Flora felt a desire to open up every door in the hallway, to see if every room was a nicer duplicate of one in the professor's house. But even though she was already walking about someone's home without an invite, she was still too much of a lady to seriously consider invading another's privacy like that. No matter how much this might _look_ like the professor's house, it _wasn't_.

She knew that she should go back, for that reason alone. Forget apologizing for trespassing. The owner of this house didn't even need to know that she had ever been here.

By now, Flora had reached a second staircase, which led down to the first floor. She could only catch a glimpse of what was down there, but that was somehow enough to make her keep going, against her better judgment.

While the previous two floors had closely resembled those in the professor's home, the differences between the ground floors were much more obvious. At least, they were from what she could see.

Both had a similar layout-one branching hallway that opened into various rooms. Given what she had already seen, Flora was certain there was a kitchen, a sitting room, a living room, and a bathroom, just like at the professor's house. And there were some similarities in décor. Where there was a cabinet or picture there, there was one here. But everything in this place was much larger and more extravagant. The professor's home was what one would call "quaint". No one would ever associate such a term with this house-no, this _mansion_. That was what it felt like, after all.

Suddenly, Flora felt very lost. It was as if she had only just realized that she was standing in a stranger's house, though she had been aware of that fact all along. Panicking a bit, she didn't even waste time to scold herself as she turned to rush back up the stairs, intent on returning to the attic and going back through the tunnel. But the sound of a door opening on the second floor made her freeze.

If someone were coming downstairs, they would see her before they'd even reached the first step. She had to get out of there.

Flora decided to head for where the entryway was in the professor's home. Once she was outside, she could worry about getting back there. For now, the most she could hope for was that she was heading in the right direction and that she didn't run into anyone.

Thankfully, her instincts were right, and it took all her willpower not to cry out in joy and relief as she saw the front door. She raced towards it, reaching for the handle. But before she could even touch it, the door opened on its own, and she stopped in her tracks, face-to-face with someone she recognized…almost.

The man standing before the teen regarded her with a curious gaze and a kind smile. He no doubt wondered why she was in his home, but it was clear that he did not mind her presence. In fact, it seemed like he delighted in it.

Normally, this would have been a huge comfort to the frightened Flora, and she would have immediately started apologizing and trying to explain herself. Instead, her heart raced, and she stood frozen in place, any and all words dying in her throat before she could voice them.

This man…looked like the professor. Physically, they could have been twins. Even the way he was dressed reminded her of him, but the colors and style were different. Just like this house could be called a more extravagant version of the professor's home, so could this man be called a more extravagant version of the professor himself.

He wore a top hat almost identical to the professor's, but his was black, and the red ribbon around his met at the side in a bow that almost looked like a flower. Beneath his black tailcoat, he appeared to be wearing a red vest over a white dress shirt and cravat. His slacks and shoes were also black, in contrast to his white gloves.

But the most striking difference, was the accessory on his face. There, on his right eye…

…was a monocle.


	5. Home

**Floraline**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the rights to Professor Layton. If I did, Descole would have his own spin-off.

**Author's Note:** Well, the movie Coraline is playing on TV right now, and I'm currently really into Professor Layton and pining for Mask of Miracle. I've seen the movie before, but just it being on is making me combine the two mentally. I thought of Flora for the title role because she is a character that doesn't get much attention or stories, and she is always left behind. It's easy to see her as frustrated as Coraline is with her life. This really made me want to write this story, along with the idea I had for the "Other Mother". I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! And feel free to let me know if you want to IM and talk about Professor Layton! I'm also currently looking for someone to co-write a fanfic or two with me.

Also, if you don't know who Monocle!Layton is, he's an OC who has become very popular among the Layton fandom. There's many fanfics and fanart for him out there, and a lot of those are pretty awesome. You can look him up, but not doing so might add to this story.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

**Home**

Flora felt like she was in the middle of some bizarre dream. She was standing in what was almost an exact replica of the house she had lived in for months, looking up at a man who looked strikingly like one Professor Hershel Layton, albeit in much fancier clothes. This home was most likely his, and though he smiled kindly at her, all she could dwell on was the fact that she was trespassing and no doubt going to get in trouble.

Confused, exhausted, and terrified, Flora did the only thing she could.

She fainted.

Even in the land of dreams, Flora never seemed to have an adventure of her own. Instead, she would dream about the past. She would find herself back in her tower in St. Mystere, waiting to be rescued, just like a fairytale. Or she would be in the den of the normal Professor Layton's house, sitting by the window that looked out onto the street and waiting for him to return. Though one was her past and the other was her present, they felt exactly the same, even in sleep.

Because she was alone. Alone and waiting for a life and a love that would ultimately never come.

_Aren't you ever tired of being alone? _

Flora awoke with a frown, as she so often did. It took her a moment to realize that she was not in her room. At least, not her room as she remembered it. From her position, she could see that it was similar to hers, but it was much bigger and fancier. Her own room was surprisingly empty. She had lost most of her belongings when the tower had collapsed, and while the professor had been willing to buy her the things she needed, her room had still lacked a certain warmth.

But this room…

Even though none of the things in it belonged to her or had any special meaning to her, they still gave her a good feeling. Beautiful paintings and pictures hung on the wall, and the places and people they showed looked like ones she would love to visit someday. Beautiful porcelain dolls were placed around the room, along with various other antiques and trinkets. She got the feeling that each one housed some special memory and longed to know the stories behind them.

Flora sat up, looking at the bed as she did so. It was large and luxurious, with a canopy. Lacy pink hung on either side, matching the comforter under her. It looked like the bed she used to have back in St. Mystere, though she had always hated the colors of that one.

The teen realized she must still be inside that strange house that mirrored the professor's. His doppelganger must truly have been as kind as he seemed, otherwise, she would have surely woken up in a police station. Though returning to the attic and going back through the tunnel seemed like a good idea, as a lady, she knew she could not just leave without thanking him and explaining herself.

There was a knock at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. She suddenly felt nervous, but there was no getting around what she had to do. "C-come in."

To her surprise, it was not the "other Professor" that entered, but a boy about Luke's age. His brown hair was tucked under a cap identical to the one Luke wore, only black. His white dress shirt had frills at the end of each sleeve and going down the middle of the front. It was loose-fitting, but neatly tucked into his black pants, which went down to his knee. His socks and shoes were also like black versions of the ones Luke wore. The outfit was completed by a black cape that was draped over his shoulders. A white ribbon pinned with a circular red brooch held it in place.

Flora was so taken by how doll-like the boy seemed, it took her a moment to realize that he looked almost exactly like Luke!

Even after everything else she had seen, this still startled her. But the boy did not seem to notice her shock, approaching her silently. His face wore no expression, and his eyes were so…empty.

"My Master wishes to see you."

Flora blinked at the soft, dull voice. She was so used to Luke talking excitedly and endlessly, she had expected this boy to do the same. His master? Then, was this child a servant here? But he seemed so young!

The boy took a step back, and Flora realized he was waiting for her. She stood up, following as he left the room. As they went downstairs, the teen stared at her guide's back. His appearance was so…unsettling. And who was this "Master" he was taking her to? She had assumed that the man who looked like Layton owned this house, but what if he was also a servant?

The prospect of meeting another new person, who might be not be so happy with her presence in their house, made her feel all the more nervous. She almost let out a sigh of relief when she entered the foyer to find the other Layton sitting there, in front of a lit fireplace. He really was an imposing figure, despite his similarity to the kind professor.

"I would like to speak with our guest alone." He addressed the boy in a voice identical to Layton's, yet somehow, so unbelievably _different_. She couldn't quite put her finger on how or why. "Leave us, Luke."

"Yes, Master." Without another word, the boy left. Flora stared after him in surprise. Part of it was shock that his name was actually the same as the one he reminded her of, but it was mostly that this man who looked so much like Layton had dismissed him to speak with her. It made her feel oddly happy…

"Flora?" At the sound of her name, the teen looked over at him. "Would you care to sit down?" He gestured to the dark green armchair across from his own.

Surprisingly, Flora found herself moving towards it and sitting down. Her uneasiness seemed to have melted away, even as she asked, "How did you know my name?"

The man smiled. "Why, I know everything about you, my dear."

That statement didn't make her feel as uneasy as it should have. "Everything? But…how?" This was all so strange. Her curiosity was overpowering the fear that any normal girl would probably feel in such a situation. "What is this place? How did I get here? And who are you?"

He chuckled. "This is your home, of course. And you are here because you were meant to be here."

"Meant…to be here?"

"Yes. We've all been waiting for you, Flora. And haven't you been waiting for us? For your family?"

"My…family?" Flora felt like her head was spinning. None of this made any sense, but she felt something warm welling up within her.

Yes, she had waited so long for a family-for a new place to call home. When Professor Layton had come and taken her away, she had thought she'd finally found both. But she had been sorely disappointed. He barely paid any attention to her, and even though she lived there, his house had never been _home_ to her.

But this place couldn't be her home! It was silly to even think it! She lived with Professor Layton, and no matter how similar he might look, this man was not him. In fact, he was a complete stranger. This was why she was always getting kidnapped.

Flora stood up. "I-I'm sorry, but I really must go."

Though she had expected him to be angry or at least try and stop her, the man's smile did not fade. "So soon? I was really hoping you'd stay a while."

Though Flora did not want to stay and feared the possibility he might try and make her, she couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that even _this_ Layton didn't seem willing to fight to keep her around. "The professor will get worried if I'm not there when he gets back."

It was a lie, and something in his eyes told her that he saw right through it. "If you must. But I do hope you will return soon. After all, you are always welcome here."

Flora nodded. "Th-thank you." She turned and hurried towards the doorway. Even though no one had ever told her, she knew better than to go into a stranger's house. The fact that this man was trying to get her to stay only proved how dangerous he was. Why would any grown man try and convince a teenage girl to live with him? And the fact that he, his servant, and their house looked so much like what she knew no longer seemed like a strange coincidence. He had known her name. Perhaps it had all been some kind of creepy plan, like how Clive had pretended to be an older version of Luke to trick the professor into trusting him and used a fake London to pretend they had traveled to the future. It would be wise to get out of here _now_.

The teen quickened her pace, doing everything short of running for the stairs. She was still a lady.

"Flora."

Even though her mind screamed at her not to, that familiar voice saying her name made her stop and turn.

"Remember, as long as you are here, you will never be alone."

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><p><strong>Extra Author's Note:<strong> Putting this here, because people are probably used to the main one being the same. Sorry if this chapter is not very good. I've been beyond depressed recently. Again, if anyone has IM and is willing to work on an M-rated fanfic with me, let me know. Currently, I'm working on Descole/Lando, and I've already been ditched by one co-author who had been working with me on it, and it's looking like the girl who replaced her might be going too. It's funny and romantic, but it does reference Mask of Miracle's plot a bit. It's planned to be a series, and I'd hate for it to be abandoned. There are so few fics about Lando, especially pairing him with Descole.


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